Mass Effect: Aftershock
by StarlordDA
Summary: The forces of the Galaxy have defeated the threat of the Reapers, but at the cost of all synthetic life. Commander Shepard had entered the Citadel with Admiral Anderson, and yet nobody returned to Earth with news of victory...
1. Awakening

Everything around Shepard was dark.

It felt almost like a inescapable darkness that was repeatedly closing in on itself, placing him in a cocoon-like state, and Shepard felt himself suffocating within it. There was a strange feeling that accompanied the darkness, a warm, tingling sensation that soothed his muscles and skin. Shepard could do nothing but feel his eyes close. He was weak, and had lost the strength he was famous for. As his eyes closed, he fell into the darkness, letting out a deep sigh of relief. Numerous images flashed through his sub-conscious mind, and no matter how hard Commander Shepard's brain tried to figure out what they were, it left him confused.

Shepard remembered someone. Her face was unforgettable to him, her features burned into his sub-conscious. Her hazel eyes were welcoming, and Shepard remembered her soft skin against his, comforting his battle-worn body. Her long, brown hair was smooth and silky, and her pearly white teeth made Shepard feel loved.

_Ashley._

As he tried to focus on her, to keep himself thinking, but the loving image was replaced by others. Terrible, disturbing images that haunted Shepard's very dreams. He remembered a forest, the trees all the same, their bark all gnarly and rough and the leaves dead on the branches. The grass died as his feet touched it, replacing the lush, green colour with a wilted, brown one. The sky wasn't how he remembered it. The welcoming blue had been swapped with a blood-red colour, and the clouds had gone from white to grey, like the colour of smoke.

He could hear the laughter of a small child, perhaps of the age of six or seven. Shepard remembered the laughter, he remembered following the child throughout the forest. As he thought about the laughter, it was replaced by a loud, booming noise, like a low-pitched shriek. It echoed throughout Shepard's dreams, the recognizable feature of his enemy.

_The Reapers._

Shepard's eyelids snapped open, and he immediatly became aware of where he was. The tingling sensation he had once felt had been replaced with an intense pain, and he remembered the wound he had sustained in the Citadel. A gunshot to the stomach, it had ripped through his clothing and through his skin, causing it to badly bleed. He felt the dried blood on his left hand, where he had been desperately compressing the wound to try and buy himself more time.

He closed his eyes once more, trying to remember the soothing darkness that he had been resting in before, but the black had been replaced by the pink of the back of his eyelids. In a vain attempt, Shepard opened his eyes and tried to move himself, causing the wound on his stomach to start bleeding heavily once more.

He tried to move his hand to compress the wound, but found that his tendons and muscles had locked up. Shepard lay back down, and felt the cold of the concrete on his skin, it sent shivers down his spine and a familiar feeling coursing around his body.

Shepard gasped for breath, the pain was unbearable. He had suffered many injuries during his lifetime, but the Commander knew that he had been seriously hurt this time. He tried to groan, but felt nothing but the feeling of condensation come out from his lungs. It hurt him to breathe, it hurt him to speak.

Groaning against the agony inside his head and chest, Shepard tried to shift his body weight onto his left side, only to realize his body was trapped under a very large and heavy piece of debris. Gasping and coughing against the increased pain that the movement had caused, he fell back onto his back. Helplessly pinned beneath a steel beam, Shepard opened his eyes and quickly shut them again as a blinding light invaded his skull.

Having to squint against the harsh light of the sun, Shepard opened his eyes and slowly took in the surroundings, forced to blink multiple times before his vision cleared enough to make out the objects around him. As he looked up, he found the source of the light was making his head beat uncontrollably, like a drum. A couple of fluorescent lights were loose on their exposed wiring, casting shadows and illumination on the walls and scattered debris below them.

The destruction around him told a story. He wasn't exactly sure where he was, but from the gaps in the debris he was trapped inside, Shepard could make out blackened pieces of furniture, and places where walls may once have been, but there were now just gaps leading into the darkness beyond them. The floor was composed of cobblestones, and were causing Shepard to be lying uncomfortably, pressing into his back as he lay on them.

Everything around him seemed familiar, like a place he had perhaps once fought through. Shepard closed his eyes and tried to remember, taking in the things he had seen and matching them with recognizable features in his memories, and then they all slotted into place, like a jigsaw had just been completed in his head.

_London. The Conduit. Anderson..._

Anderson hadn't survived. The shot he had taken from the Illusive Man had taken it's toll on his body, coupled with the injuries throughout the war and the devastation outside the Conduit...it had been too much for him. Shepard remembered him well, his face was burned inside his head. Anderson had been his mentor, and Shepard was his greatest success. Shepard had always looked up to him. He had always seemed invincible, like nothing in the world could hurt him. He had been through many toils, many failures and many disasters, and still he survived. And now, just as victory was within their reach, he had been swept from the world in a moment.

Shepard felt tears forming in his eyes as he remembered his words, the consoling sentence he had whispered into the Commander's ear before he let go.

_You did good son, you did good...I'm...proud of you..._

Shepard felt the tears roll down his bruised cheeks as he remembered his mentor, they waters swept down his cheeks without feeling, everything was numb from the pain and the cold. Shepard remembered that there had always been something about Admiral Anderson, like an indomitable strength that kept on moving forwards without stopping. And it was that strength that drove Shepard and motivated him towards everything he had accomplished.

And Commander Shepard would let this strength drive him throughout the situation he was in now. Anderson wouldn't want him to die like this, he would want him to survive. And Shepard would **not** die yet, not whilst his comrade had died giving him this chance.

And this mantra echoed throughout the halls of his mind as the pain became unbearable, and Shepard lay back and immediatly lost consciousness upon contact with the cobbles.


	2. Fight

It had been almost three weeks since Commander Shepard had been recovered from the debris of the Crucible, and the damage from the Crucible's explosion was slowly being repaired. Much of the blast had been absorbed by the Presidium Commons and other wards, such as Huerta Memorial Hospital and the C-Sec Headquarters, had taken little damage.

Huerta Memorial had luckily scraped by with nothing but a few upturned slabs in the lobby and shattered glass throughout numerous corridors, and much of the damage had been easily repaired.

The weeks had been passing slowly, and Commander Shepard had lay unconscious throughout the days, comfortably lying in a hospital bed with a white, linen cover from his feet to his shoulders. The Commander's heart rate was stable, as he had been wired up to a heart monitor he was brought to the hospital, and the readings hadn't changed.

Shepard's apartment, located on the Silversun Strip, had not been used since the battle of Earth, but was the temporary residence of Alliance Rear Admiral Hannah Shepard, who had been given the keys to the apartment by one Lieutenant Steve Cortez, who had been holding onto the spare set of keys on the behalf of Commander Shepard.

Although she was living in the apartment, Hannah Shepard had done nothing but tidied the rooms and slept in the bed, not wanting to disturb the many things that belonged to her son, who she spent her time with most days, sitting at his bedside, hoping that her son would wake. She would be joined regularly by Cortez, who owed his life to Commander Shepard and their frequent conversations aboard the Normandy and the Citadel.

Shepard had been rescued a few hours after the victory on Earth and the death of all synthetic life in the Galaxy, along with the bodies of Admiral Anderson and the Illusive Man, who were both confirmed dead when dragged out of the debris. He had been brought to the Citadel for emergency treatment, where he quickly became the patient of Head Doctor Chloe Michel, who ordered that Commander Shepard become her responsibility.

When everything had settled and Chloe had been left alone with Commander Shepard, she ran many tests and discovered the end result within a few hours. Dr. Michel concluded that the Commander had suffered severe trauma to his head, and numerous burns and bruises throughout his body. Because of this, she had given Commander Shepard a sedative in the hope that his body would ignore the pain it was in and began repairs on it's own.

"Do you have any news for me, Dr. Michel?" Still facing her son, Hannah Shepard had her hand wrapped around his, hoping that he might wake from his unconscious sleep. Dr. Michel held a clipboard in her hand and a pen intertwined in her fingers, and scribbled notes down as she glanced around Shepard's room.

"I'm afraid not, Ms. Shepard," Dr. Michel looked at the Rear Admiral with sympathy in her eyes, before taking a seat next to Hannah and breathing a deep sigh.

"The readings are not saying anything different. We have reduced the swelling in his head a great deal, and the fact that his body has overcome most of the physical stress..." Admiral Shepard could see that the Doctor was at a loss for words. Dr. Michel instead looked down at Commander Shepard, frown lines on her forehead. "I would have thought the Commander would have regained consciousness by now."

"But why isn't he then?" Hannah muttered to herself. She gazed back down on her son's face, she couldn't help but notice how peaceful and relaxed he looked.

Hannah lifted her right hand and placed it against her son's cheek, gently stroking it in a rythm. "After his father died, I didn't think I could go on. But he saw me through one of the darkest times of my life," she spoke quietly. It was rare for Hannah to open up to anyone else other than her son, but there was comfort in the doctor's presence and Hannah knew that she was a close friend of John's.

Chloe smiled at the Rear Admiral, before she reached out and placed one slim hand upon Hannah's, offering support to the mother. "Your son's a soldier and a hero. You above all people know that."

Hannah's mouth lifted into a smile. "I know." She turned the smile at the direction of Chloe as the doctor started to rise from her chair. "Thank you for taking care of him. It helps me rest easier at night knowing that my baby boy is in safe hands."

Dr. Michel shook her head, her short brown curls shaking as they brushed her cheeks. "You don't need to say thank you, Admiral Shepard. John is a good friend of mine, and I am honored to be the one caring for him." A small smile curved her soft lips. "I'll check in on her in another few hours. Don't hesitate to call if you need me."

Nodding, Hannah turned her attention back to her son as Dr. Michel left, the door quietly whooshing closed behind her. She brushed one hand over her son's cheek and smiled, before relaxing back in her chair and continuing to watch as Commander Shepard slept.


	3. Recovery

_"...With all due respect, Commander..."_

The voice was familiar. Shepard tried to concentrate on the words as they echoed through the halls of his mind, trying desperately to try and break the barrier in his mind that the trauma had created.

_"...Damn it, I can do this..."_

Shepard heard her again. She sounded so close, he could almost feel her, lying next to him, comforting his mind, soul and body. He ached to see her, to feel her long, brown hair against his warm body.

_"Shepard, I, I love you too.."_

As Ashley's words on Earth echoed through his head, Shepard's mind began to clear. He remembered her, her facial features, her favorite things, her personal armour, everything about her came flooding back to him.

_"I...I was lost without you, John. When I thought you died two years ago; it broke my heart."_

He remembered the scene. It was a few hours before they assaulted Cronos Station. Ashley had come up to Shepard's cabin to talk to him. He remembered their intimate moment, and he smiled as he stroked her face.

_"And then...you found your way back to me. And it was a miracle."_

Her voice felt so close to him. Shepard close almost feel her touching his hand, whispering the same words she had said in his cabin into his ear at that moment. He remembered their last moments together, where he had saved her from the explosion of a Mako and carried her to the Normandy, dismissing her protests. He had given her into the safe arms of James Vega and watched as the Normandy flew out of orbit, tears streaming down his face. He had told himself as he ran to the Conduit, that he had done that to save her.

But then, Ashley's warm, loving face was replaced with an image that Commander Shepard wished he hadn't remembered.

_"Shepard-Commander, does this one deserve death?"_

Legion. The face of the Geth he had once known was burned into his brain. Legion had sacrificed himself to stop the war between the Quarians and the Geth, but Shepard wished that there might have been some other way. Shepard bit his lip as he pictured Legion's final moments, as the Geth finished his transmission and dropped to his knees, before deactivating and falling to the ground. He was the one that Commander Shepard couldn't save, no matter the route he could have gone.

_"Even you are partly synthetic..."_

The image of Legion was then replaced by the Stargazer, the boy that Shepard had watched die in the flames of a Kodiak as the Normandy left Earth. And then Shepard remembered, the victory against the Reapers had come at a cost. The Crucible hadn't destroyed the Reapers, it had destroyed all synthetic life in the Galaxy. Shepard then remembered his pain, the excruciating pain he had felt when the Crucible's ray hit him. His cybernetic implants had deactivated, and his scars had come back out through the protein overlay he had been given through the Normandy's med bay.

_"I always work at optimal capacity, Shepard..."_

EDI. Shepard then realized that his choice was selfish. He hadn't saved everyone, he had saved the ones made of flesh and bone. He then pictured the numerous Geth ships, the ships that had pledged themselves to Shepard to stop the Reapers, falling down into the bottomless pit of space, because Shepard had betrayed them with the ray.

These thoughts were too much for him to handle. He was Commander John Shepard, Hero of the Citadel, first Human Spectre. His name was revered and many people were in awe when they saw him. He had pledged himself to protect all life in the Galaxy, but he had just sacrificed those made of cybernetics to save the organics. Could things have been different? Should he have chosen a different option?

His brain burned as he thought about these questions, and Shepard began to rebel against the barrier that held him back, the one that tried to keep him from the outside world. He punched and he kicked, and when he heard the last question.

_"Do __**I**__ deserve to live?"_

That was when Shepard's eyes opened.

Shepard slowly turned his head on his pillow, gasping in pain as he managed to move himself, something he couldn't do in the debris. He looked around his hospital room slowly and carefully, watching as sunlight seeped into his room, although curtains had been drawn across the long, glass windows, making everything in the room dark.

Shepard quickly shifted his head to the right side of the room, where he had heard Ashley whispering into his ear, but instead found Hannah sitting there, her hand rested on his.

"John?" gently rising from her chair, she began to drag it over to the side of her son.

"Mom?" Shepard managed to rasp out. His voice was dry and scratchy. It ached for him to speak, he hadn't spoken to anyone in the last few weeks beside himself.

Shepard managed a smile at Hannah, before looking at the heart monitor at his bedside and rolling his eyes. He was hooked up to more machinery than what he could imagine, and he didn't like it one bit.

"Where...where am I?" Shepard looked around the room once more, it felt familiar, but Shepard couldn't exactly place his finger onto it.

"Huerta Memorial, Honey," Hannah stroked her son's arm and smiled at his weathered face. The bruises and burns were still showing, and the scarring from the Lazarus Project had come back, after the protein overlay had been destroyed with the skin, giving the scars a orange, fire-like glow. "They brought you here when they found you in the wreckage."

It took a while for Shepard to process this information. He knew he had been lying in debris, but that it was the wreckage from the Crucible was astounding. How he had survived a fall such as that, Shepard didn't know. But the fact was that he had not left his Mother alone in the world, and that brought a smile to Commander Shepard's face.

"Did...did anyone else survive?" Shepard sighed when he thought of Anderson, he was sure that he had died, but it didn't hurt to check.

"No, sweetheart. They found David a few minutes after they found you. He was dead when they found him," Hannah was looking down at her feet as she said it. David Anderson had been a good friend to the Shepard family, and had taken John under his wing after the death of his Father. "I'm sorry."

But before Shepard could reply, he watched as the door slid open with the typical whooshing sound, revealing two people stood at the door. Shepard looked at them funnily, trying to recognize their faces, but after they approached him, he remembered.

"Commander, it's a miracle to see you're alive, Sir." The voice of Lieutenant Steve Cortez echoed in his ear, which brought a smile to Shepard's face. He was glad that another member of the Normandy had survived, even though Shepard wasn't sure whether or not the others had made it.

"Indeed, Commander. How are you feeling?" Shepard instantly recognized the French accent of Dr. Michel, and turned to see her stood at the foot of his bed.

"I've been better, Doctor." Shepard said, smiling. He was glad to be surrounded by people he cared for, and people who in turn, cared for him. But Ashley was not a part of the group in his room, and that dampened his spirit a little.

"But you've also been worse, Commander." Dr. Michel did not have her medical equipment with her this time, and instead sat down next to his bed."But it is great to see you're awake. You have a lot to catch up on."

Hannah then motioned something to Steve, who grabbed a tray from the bedside table, which held a fresh glass of water and a bowl of cereal, which told Shepard that it was early in the day. He placed it down before Shepard and smiled at him, before sitting back in his chair.

Shepard looked down at the dinner tray and then back at his friends, before taking a sip of water and sighing the sound or relief. For the first time since the start of the Reaper War, Commander Shepard felt safe.


	4. Release

"Good morning, Commander." Shepard turned his eyes from his breakfast to the door, which opened with it's typical whoosh to reveal Dr. Michel stood in the doorway, holding a medical chart in her left hand. "Did you sleep well?"

Shepard had improved dramatically since he regained consciousness a few weeks back. His legs had healed to the point where Shepard could walk on his own, which looked like a big step into his recovery when he woke up. Such a simple movement like walking would have had ended with him falling over, as his balance wasn't the best. But after weeks of vigorous physiotherapy, he could now walk with the aid of crutches. Slowly, but surely, Shepard was gaining his strength and starting to feel more like the old Commander Shepard.

"Just what can be expected, Doctor." His ability to sleep without being plagued with nightmares was faulty, to say the least. The images of fallen friends, bad decisions and horrifying sights over the last three years constantly entered his mind, but the medication that he was put on by Dr. Michel soothed his mind to a point.

Shepard smiled at Dr. Michel as she entered his room, before placing his breakfast onto the bedside cabinet and waiting for her to sit down. His eating habits had been restricted to a healthy diet, so Shepard had no choice but to eat the porridge that had been delivered to him. Food aboard the Normandy wasn't the best, but thanks to the brilliant expertise of one James Vega, hispanic dishes had become regular for the human members of the crew.

"I'm glad," Shepard watched as Dr. Michel took a seat at his bedside, looking at the clipboard that held the notes she had made throughout Shepard's recovery. "You have been doing well, Commander, and I am pleased with your progress throughout the last month."

Dr. Michel took a quick glance at Shepard's skin, before writing something down in her notes. The bruising and swelling had gone down, for the most part, and thanks to the appropriate doses of daily medi-gel, Shepard's burns had retreated into scarring.

"I have some news for you, Commander." Dr. Michel smiled, before placing her clipboard on her seat and standing up. "But first, I need to scan your implants."

Shepard groaned as he complied with the doctor's wishes, throwing off his covers and pressing one leg to the ground. The medical gown he had once wore had been replaced by his clothing of choice, military-grade clothing of the N7 brand. He gripped the bed tightly and pushed himself up onto two feet, stumbling a little but regaining his balance quickly.

Dr. Michel walked around the bed towards Shepard, omni-tool already out in hand. She made a quick scan all around Shepard's body, taking readings from the implants he received from the Lazarus Project. She checked the readings and smiled, before looking back at Shepard.

"As I expected," Dr. Michel helped Shepard sit back down onto the side of the bed. She was a caring doctor, and Shepard was lucky to have her as a friend. "The scans show that your implants haven't received any damage."

Dr. Michel walked over to the door and picked up the two crutches at the side of the door, before walking back over and passing them to Shepard, who slipped them onto his arms. "Well, I'm officially releasing you from your daily treatment, Commander. You've done exceptionally well and your progress has been beautiful."

"I, I can go home?" Shepard stuttered, standing up perfectly as the crutches hit the floor. Shepard had barely been in the hospital a month, and Dr. Michel had already decided that his treatment should end. "Isn't it a little early for that, Dr. Michel?"

"Of course not, Commander," Dr. Michel replied, walking over to the door. "I shall be coming over to your apartment to update your progress on a weekly basis, though. Admiral Hackett has been made aware of your condition and as a result it will be some time before you return to active duty."

Shepard looked down at his feet. He wasn't sure how to react to this news. His treatment in Huerta Memorial had become a sort of ritual for him, but spending the last month confined to one ward had made him a little anxious. Deep down, Commander Shepard didn't know what to feel inside.

"Commander Shepard," Chloe's soft, accentuated voice intruded on his thoughts. "Would you like for me to arrange a ride for you?"

"No thanks, Chloe." Shepard replied quickly, still deep in thought. "I'll ring Cortez and ask him to come."

Dr. Michel nodded. "Okay. Well, I've got other patients to see to," she smiled reassuringly at Shepard and moved to open the door leading out into the hallway. "Remember what I've said, Shepard. Take this time to let your mind and body heal. I'll see you soon."

"I will," Shepard assured the doctor. "Thank you for everything, Chloe."

"You don't need to thank me, Shepard," she replied. "Just take care of yourself when I'm not around to look after you." she chuckled. At Shepard's nod, the doctor turned and left.

Shepard smiled to himself and stood up, before walking over to the coat hanger near his door. On it was a single item, his old N7 leather jacket. Running his hand along the genuine cow leather, Shepard smiled at the thought of her mother. A few days ago, she had brought the jacket alongside a backpack of his belongings. She had said it was mother's instinct, and Shepard knew that she cared for him.

He leaned against the wall, removing the crutches from his arms and pulling off the black shirt he wore. It was imprinted with his name, rank and his ship, on his heart area. He liked the shirt, but he needed a fresh change of clothes. He limped over to his bed and unzipped the bag, before revealing some clothes, and his N7 dog tags. They must have been delivered to his apartment when he was still unconscious, or Hannah most likely took them from him whilst he slept.

Shepard smiled and threw the chain around his neck, before pulling out a white v-neck shirt, some blue skinny jeans and some laced trainers. He quickly changed into the clothes and pulled his trainers on, before leaning over to lace his sneakers – a feat that took many tries in the early stages of his recovery for Shepard to accomplish. He stared down at his hands as they worked quickly over the laces. He once remembered when they were reddened and burned, but no longer.

Shepard then wobbled back to the coat hanger and pulled off the leather jacket, feeding his arms through the holes and pulling it on, before slotting the crutches back over. He then quickly grabbed his backpack and pulled it over his shoulder.

Finally, Shepard pulled up his omni-tool and scrolled over to his contacts, before clicking onto Cortez's ID and ringing him.

"Hello? Steve Cortez speaking."

"Hey, Steve. It's Shepard."

"Shepard, hey, What's up?"

"I need you to come and get me, I'm coming home."


	5. Return

"So, how've you been?"

Cortez was waiting for Shepard at the sky car parking lot, just like he was asked to. His smile reached his dark blue eyes as he spotted the Commander through the crowd of people, all of them various species. Turian, Asari, Salarian, Human, and even the odd Hanar, Krogan and Elcor were mixed in with the crowd, making Commander Shepard even more difficult to spot between them all.

Since the destruction of the Reapers, most of these species' home-worlds were destroyed and the Citadel was the only place offering the medical care needed, as well as room and shelter for the refugees. Amazingly enough, the Batarians were now a common sight to see on the Citadel since the war first began, as they had previously been a rarity on the Citadel. As a result of the conflict, most of their colonies had been completely wiped out when the Reapers had first appeared and the future of their species was still uncertain.

Shepard noticed Cortez by his car, gently holding the car door open for him. Some of the members of the crowd turned to look at him, recognition slowly coming to their eyes as Shepard hurried along. Some talked amongst themselves about him, but others were too absorbed in their daily routine to notice Commander Shepard passing them by, inches from where they stood.

No one tried to stop him, and Shepard was grateful for the small concession. Right now, all he wanted to do was get to her apartment where everything was familiar and offered the comfort he needed right now. As he reached the car, Shepard rushed inside and settled back against the soft leather seat. He took off his crutcheds and threw them into the back of the skycar as Cortez moved around the hood of the vehicle and settled himself behind the driver's controls.

"Better, now that I'm a free man." Shepard asked as he watched as Cortez expertly maneuvered the sky car in with the other traffic. He had no doubts about Cortez's flying skills, he couldn't have asked for a better Kodiak pilot on the Normandy, but then and there Cortez did like to show off his skills.

"And how are you feeling about that? being released, I mean." After having spent so much time together since Shepard's recovery, Cortez had become more attuned to his personality, but Cortez was too busy concentrating on the merging traffic before them, so didn't pay much attention to the Commander's body language.

"I'm not exactly sure how I feel about it, Steve." Shepard said. "It's been part of my daily routine for so long, but I don't know."

"Well, maybe you should relax and take your mind off of some things. Want me to come over later and bring a vid?" Cortez suggested. "I found this great little documentary about the heroics of Commander Shepard and the crew of the Normandy..."

"Okay, okay," Shepard chuckled, and for the first time in a long while, Shepard was looking forward to spending some time doing something that was absolutely non-productive. And maybe, just maybe, the nightmares would cease to visit him. "Wait, did Diana Allers manage to produce that thing?"

"Yep," Cortez chuckled as he piloted the skycar down into the lot outside the Tiberius Towers complex. "And I'm bringing it around at nine o'clock."

"Right, I'll see you later." Shepard opened the skycar door and grabbed his crutches, fitting them onto the insides of his elbows before stepping foot outside of the car.

"Oh! One more thing," Cortez said as the door closed, forcing Shepard to open it again to hear what he had to say. "Here's your ID card. Your mother's probably in, but just in case."

Shepard smiled and nodded, taking the ID card from Cortez's hands and proceeding to head into the skyscraper that held his apartment. As he made her way over the highly polished tiles of the floor, the pretty asari receptionist behind the desk smiled and acknowledged Shepard as he passed by. A small smile touched his lips as he walked over to the elevator, silently returning the polite gesture.

Shepard waved his ID card in front of the elevator doors and after a few seconds, the polished stainless steel doors parted gently open. Stepping inside, he hit the button for the twenty-ninth floor and the doors immediately closed again, shutting Shepard inside. He leaned against the back wall of the elevator, silently watching the numbers on the key panel ascend. How many times Shepard had stood inside this elevator during the two-week shore leave that Admiral Hackett had ordered, he didn't know, but Shepard swore that he could memorize the patterns on the metal.

The elevator stopped and Shepard watched as the doors opened again to a long, wide corridor, welcoming him to the twenty-ninth floor. He smiled and entered the hallway, making his way to his own apartment, located at the end of the line of doors.

Stopping before his apartment door, Shepard waved his ID card again, this time against the panel that was located on the right of his apartment door. Within moments, the panel flickered green and then prompted Shepard for his handprint. Shepard raised his right hand and pressed it against the cool surface, watching as the panel flashed green again and the door to his home gently whooshed open, granting him access. Once inside his apartment, Shepard locked the door behind him and took a few steps, before watching as Hannah came flooding down the steps towards him.

"John?" she said, wrapping her arms around him in a bearhug-like vise. Shepard was happy to see her, for her to welcome him home. He wasn't so sure he deserved a welcome like this, and he certainly didn't want one like it, but he went along with it for Hannah's sake. "I'm glad you're home, Son."

"Thanks, Mom." Shepard released himself gently from her grip and tossed his bag onto his white leather couch as he strode into the kitchen and leaned on the white breakfast bar. "It's good to be home."

Shepard then decided to move across to the fridge and peer inside, he was starving, having only eaten half of his porridge by mistake. Thinking about it as he looked through his barely-stocked fridge, he realized that he had just left a bowl of cereal and half-drunk glass of orange juice on his bedside cabinet. He certainly didn't mean to, but he was too anxious to go home, and left his breakfast where it was.

Finally deciding on a bottle of water and some grapes that his Mother had obviously bought from somewhere, he pulled them out and sat down at the counter, watching as his Mother took his bag upstairs, as any loving mother would. She had told him only a few days before that her allocated shore leave was coming to an end, and she would be returning to the Fifth Fleet within the next week. He knew she had to, but Shepard knew that he would miss the quiet evenings they had spent together in his hospital room. Even though his injuries were a bad thing, Shepard knew that there was one good thing that he could take from it, and it was the time he was allowed to spend with his Mother during his long recovery.

Tucking the bottle beneath his arm, Shepard popped a couple of the grapes into his mouth as he slowly ascended the staircase into the bedroom, the same one he had shared with Ashley whenever they had spent time on the Citadel before everything on Earth.

Shepard shook his head, trying to dismiss the depressing thoughts clouding his mind. But no matter where he went to in the apartment, traces of Ashley were left everywhere. Shepard found her clothes hanging next to his in the large closet, her toothbrush resting unused next to his, and that was just in the bedroom. The bookshelves downstairs housed some of her favorite literature, Alfred Tennyson, Walt Whitman, some of the best Human poets to ever draw breath.

Shepard decided that he needed to move, to focus his mind and body on something else. He dropped his leather jacket onto the bed, and then dropped a few grapes into his mouth, taking a mouthful of water as he swallowed them.

Exiting the room, Shepard made his way downstairs and sat down on the leather couch, removing the crutches from his arms, laying them to rest beside him. He took up the TV remote and turned onto an Asari cooking channel, which he sat and watched for the next forty-five minutes of his life. Shepard enjoyed cooking, and had been taught how to by a roommate at the N7 training facilities on Arcturus Station, who said that the cafeteria food was bad for morale and that Shepard should make his own food for his crew.

Every few minutes he took a sip from the bottle of water, and Shepard took pleasure in even the small movement of tipping the water into his mouth, too. Only a few weeks before, Shepard had been sipping from a tube in a hospital bed, so to do things for himself was liberating to say the least.

As he watched the TV, Shepard could feel the voice of the Asari host becoming more drowned out and muffled the more he listened, he changed the volume on the TV but that didn't help...until EDI's voice invaded his thoughts once again.

_'Is there a topic you wish to discuss, Shepard?'_

EDI's voice . . . Legion's voice . . .

Would he never be free of them? Would their voices continue to haunt him into the grave?

Maybe he deserved it, deserved their torments . . .


End file.
